This morning, a gentle warmth enveloped the air, a stark contrast to the rough chill of the previous day. In response, Captain Mercader dispatched us to tend to the lighthouses, entrusting us with the vital task of ensuring their proper upkeep.
"Alan, how's your arm feeling?" Danica's hand landed on my shoulder, interrupting my concentration. The Yurrian Cardinal I had been sketching took flight, and I let out a sigh as I turned to face her. "How long have you been holed up in here? We've got work to do, brother."
"Yeah, but please don't sneak up on me like that again," I thought it best not to mention it, preferring to avoid a lecture about slacking off.
She stands back up with a rucksack larger than her own body strapped behind her, "Now I know that top brass is letting us kick a few rocks to pass the time, but I got my eye on you," Danica is our ace, and she is never shy about wanting to go further, including towing around inhuman weights. I'd never put my back through that, even if I was given half a year's pay upfront.
"We are about…," I gaze into the northern permafrost as it, too, stares back at me, "5 minutes away from the lighthouse."
"Aye," Danica replied.
So far, nothing has happened. My personal scanner hums in tune to the birds and the swaying trees in the cold morning breeze. The snow from last night's blizzard has reached our knees, but Danica seems to be doing swell. She makes her way to my side and bumps my shoulder, as we both spy a thicket of trees stretching high.
The surrounding air began to bite at my nose, and sting my cheeks. Our breaths condensing like a chimney full of steam, as we step into the shadows of the Ancient Frostcrowns.
"Masks on, Danica—on my lead," she nods as she unhitches a protective mask from her belt, covering her face. As the mask covers mine, my nose begins to itch as warm air enters the mask.
We were tasked with maintaining the lighthouse at the northernmost edge of Yurriach territory, just before the true, desolate permafrost. The cold there is bone-chilling and unforgiving, enough to give even the seasoned Wracktrekkers of Yurriachem pause. But as always, the reliable yet disposable Raven Scouts were sent to handle the job.
As I gaze at the trees, I notice the delicate snow webs hanging from the branches, some of them torn and spotted. The Frostcrown Orbweavers, while harmless to humans, seem to have encountered something big and powerful enough to break their normally resilient webs.
While the thought lingers in my mind, the forest itself seemed motionless; No sound, no wind, no life. Gradually, I could feel my own heartbeat, every minute twitch and shift in the surrounding area became highlighted through my senses. Should we run? Stand still? As my breath gets deeper and quieter, I hear the beeping of my scanner.
With a blimp the size of a boulder behind my point, I turn around and felt a sharp sting in my stomach as I am sent backwards.
"Danica!" I shout within my mask. Danica struck me with enough force to send me backwards. The scanner beeped faster until it made a single, consistent sound. By the time it did, a grotesque mouth appeared behind her, and swallowed her whole, leaving no trace.
Danica is our ace, dependable, but ultimately expendable. I can't let the opportunity she gave me be in vain. There's nowhere to escape to except the lighthouse, no time to dwell on her death, just run and live to tell the tale. Just like all the creatures the Marble Ravens come across on the outskirts, someone has to bear the burden for everyone else to understand what they've endured.
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